


New Wounds

by oh___worm



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dead People, Dream Team SMP Lore (Video Blogging RPF), Everyone Has Issues, Gen, Ghost Sleepy Bois Inc, Non-Graphic Violence, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Post-Manberg Festival on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Post-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Pre-Canon, Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29791608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh___worm/pseuds/oh___worm
Summary: Wilbur was very used to the calming quiet of the afterlife, carefully inspecting each wound that appeared on his skin because of Tommy's recklessness. They never hurt Wilbur, except for today.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 1
Kudos: 75





	New Wounds

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> It's been a very long time since I posted any of my work publicly, but I'm a little proud of this one lol
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading!!

Wilbur got very used to the quiet of the afterlife. To him, it was really refreshing compared to how loud his death was. Schlatt would only talk every once in a while, and he never said anything worth listening to.

Despite the silence, Wilbur was always somewhat busy, inspecting the cuts, scrapes and bruises that appeared on his body every so often, fascinated by their odd placement, shape, and severity. Of course, nothing that Tommy endured could even compare to the stab wound that left his center empty and his shirt ripped. If anything, Wilbur just looked at them and laughed. He couldn't even feel them. That kid was always so reckless; he probably just fell out of a tree, or tripped on a rock.

Not this time though. This time, the bruises were huge, and god, did they hurt. The amount of blows to his stomach made him nauseous, and the ones to the chest made his vision spotty. He stumbled back and forth, trying to grab anything that could keep him upright, but to no avail. Wilbur collapsed onto his side, his knees curled into his chest. This pain wasn't like anything he had felt before, and definitely wasn't as quick. The torment went on for hours. It seemed to never stop, and it also seemed as if he couldn't fight back. Each punch or slap to the same place hurt more than the last, causing Wilbur to grunt and cough. Eventually, the hits slowed, and he could finally rest. He lied down on his back to try to catch his breath, only to be hit with one final blow to the jaw, which knocked it out of place. He could taste the blood pouring out of his mouth, which was far more metallic tasting than when he was alive. Finally, the torture stopped, and each bruise, broken bone, and carpet-like burn lifted from his skin and insides. He shot upwards, breathing heavily, remembering what each painful spot represented. 

Wilbur could feel his insides burning with rage and grief at the pure thought that Tommy went through all of this, for all of it to stop with a final release.

Wilbur heard unsure footsteps coming from not too far away as he settled his mind. He quickly picked himself up and ran toward the foreign noise.

"Hey Wil! You remember how you said that you felt a space open for me here? Weird that it didn't close, eh? At least you get to see me here now!" Tommy joked, clearly taken aback by the sight of his deceased brother and his own passing.

Wilbur shuddered while looking at Tommy with the condition he was in. Each painful reminder of Tommy's death that was once on Wilbur's skin was right in front of him, and the large stab wound that tore Tommy apart was right in front of him as well, a painful reminder of Wilbur's departure. Wilbur was finally faced with the brother he left behind, yet he couldn't look away, despite his guilt. He took a few steps forward with his arms open, letting Tommy sink into them silently, the same way he did with his own father. All Wilbur could do was chuckle and cry quietly with the kid in his arms, the same one he left behind, and say, 

"I'm sorry, but I wish you weren't here."


End file.
